Author Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi In the end, the mountains of imagination were nothing but a house. And this grand life of mine was nothing but an excuse. You've been hearing my story so patiently for a lifetime Now hear this: it was nothing but a fairy tale. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments